


Mind-altering Chemicals and Other Causes of Snuggles

by CurlicueCal, LaughingStones



Series: Shadowbound AU [12]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Intoxicated cuddling, M/M, Metaphysical Shenanigans, Minor issues of consent, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 07:46:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18149078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurlicueCal/pseuds/CurlicueCal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones
Summary: Gamzee and Kurloz have a fight.





	Mind-altering Chemicals and Other Causes of Snuggles

**Author's Note:**

> Curlicue says: I had a flower pot dropped on my head today so me 'n Gamzee are both potheads now. Also I might be very mildly concussed. What are tags.

“Gamzee?” Dirk tapped lightly on his door. “You home? I brought takeout.”

“Yeah, bro,” came the easy response. “I'm home as fuck. I’m all up and chilling here.” He definitely sounded chill, his voice relaxed and almost laughing.

Dirk hesitated a half beat, thrown by… something, some curl or drag to the words, but pushed the door open. “I got Chinese. You want company, or--”

Oh. Okay.

 _That_ kind of chilling.

The pungent gust of marijuana scent hit him in the face and coiled past into the living room. Gamzee had clearly been smoking for a while. The man in question rolled over on his futon in the cozy brightness of his room and gifted Dirk a slow, lazy smile. It looked remarkably like his post-orgasm smiles.

“--Or are you good on your own,” Dirk finished.

Gamzee's smile brightened, if that was possible. His eyes were heavy, hooded, a little red from the smoke, sleepy and blown-pupilled on Dirk both at once. “Hell yeah I like company, my brother! Get your fine ass in here and close the door, you're letting all the miracles out.” He grinned.

 _Can’t have that_ , Hal commented, as Dirk slipped obediently into the room. _Where would we be without brain-altering chemicals to make entertaining confetti out of the organics’ minds?_

“You love it and you know it,” Dirk returned, eyeing Gamzee’s lazily reaching hands as he took a minute to assess exactly how much of a hotbox the bedroom was gonna turn out to be. He blew out a slow breath, breathed in again, decided that the secondhand effects weren’t gonna knock him stupid, and moved closer into Gamzee’s grasp.

Gamzee tugged him to sit on the futon and elbow-crawled into his lap, wrapping arms around and rubbing his face into Dirk's midsection. “You smell so fucking good,” he hummed, breath warm through Dirk's tanktop.

“Thanks. You smell like pot.” Dirk eyed him with some bemusement even as one hand rose automatically to stroke into Gamzee’s hair. Hal sidled up, close without touching, not while the low, buzzing grumble of Kurloz’s presence hadn’t yet acclimated to their intrusion into the room. Seemed to be sharpening up, if anything. Dirk glanced over at the sprawl of shadow, where Kurloz had laid claim to the far wall opposite the futon, a lot farther away from his host-brother than usual.

He was sporting a new look today, a fuzzy knot instead of his usual splay of writhing tendrils, darkness rippling with the paler grey bands of a shadow whose host was either dreaming or high as fuck.

Gamzee snuggled into Dirk’s touch, completing the resonance.

Warm, hazy affection poured through, slow and sticky like molasses, but not as strange or disorienting as Dirk had half wondered if a chemically-altered metaphysical connection might turn out to be. It just felt like… Gamzee, a little tipsy, a little detached, a fuzzy haze of positive emotion drawn over something more melancholy. And a stubborn, jangly kind of defiance pointed at the faraway buzz of Kurloz hanging over things.

Kurloz did not feel like a fluffy curtain of positive emotion.

“You… doing okay?” Dirk asked. It felt like a stupid question to ask someone snuggling and cheerfully high, but it also felt like a stupid question to _not_ ask with Kurloz halfway across the room and buzzing like a hive of angry bees. Sleepy, confused, distractible angry bees.

Hal peeled away to wander in the other shadow’s direction.

“Hell yeah, my brother,” Gamzee said, with a swell of contentment through the resonance. “I'm all manner of good now.”

Dirk’s brow knit further as Hal paced curiously along Kurloz’s border. “Did something happen?”

Discontent threaded through the peaceful haze and Gamzee thumped his forehead against Dirk's lower ribs. “Mrgh,” he muttered. “Bad fucking day, bro. 'S all.”

“Oh,” Dirk said, still feeling stymied. Gamzee nudged back up into his hand and he absently resumed petting at the curls. “Do you wanna… talk about it?”

 _This will end well,_ Hal commented, as he nudged a toe at a hazy tendril. The angry-bee hum of Kurloz’s presence swelled briefly sharper and the tendril dragged itself slowly away.

Gamzee heaved a deep sigh. He was quiet for long enough that Dirk thought he might not be going to answer, might have forgotten the question entirely, before he spoke, all in a tumble. “Was a pair of sisters came into the shop earlier, all motherfucking het up at each other, shadows just about ready to snap teeth at throats, and they went and sat their asses down at the corner table and made like they were all chill and friendly for like an _hour_ before they'd get at leaving. And I had to be at listening to their shadow-sisters hiss and snarl the whole time, cuz I was stuck behind the fucking counter cuz Jane has deliveries Thursdays.” He sighed again, and a note of misery slid through the warm haze. “And then after, I went and got to fucking up a whole batch of bread dough, as I oughta know better to by now, and Jane up and tore strips off me for the waste of it.” He burrowed against Dirk, pressing into his hands. “I didn't fucking _mean_ to, I just lost track, got to wandering off in my head and… doesn't matter, though, fucked it up good.”

“Hell.” Dirk’s hand’s curved almost automatic around Gamzee’s head, further into his hair. “That sounds rough.” That didn’t really seem sufficient; Dirk searched for something reassuring to add. “It’s not your fault if you make a mistake, though.”

Gamzee lifted his head enough to frown up at him, a motion matched by the way Hal wheeled around to give Dirk an invisible _look_. “So whose motherfucking fault's it get at being?” Gamzee asked. “Whole _batch_ of dough, like five loaves pitched off the roof or some shit.”

“Shit happens. Jane knows that. She’ll cool off; it’s not like she’s never had a recipe go wrong.”

“I know,” Gamzee said. “Sister's good to me. It just sucks, y’know? Always gotta be one thing piling on the next, can't never be just one thing goes wrong all by itself. Tires a body out.” He put his head down again.

Dirk bit the inside of his lip as Gamzee settled further into his lap and sighed. Don’t try to fix it, don’t try to fix it, don’t try to fix it--agh, but. “Have you ever...” Dirk started before he could stop himself.

 _Are we really doing this?_ Hal put in. _Now?_

Dirk bit his lip again.

“Hmm?” Gamzee said. His head pushed up pointedly into Dirk's hand, which had fallen still, and Dirk started petting again. 

“Nothing, it’s just.” Dirk ran a thumb over the curve of an ear, wrestled with his own judgement a little longer. “Okay, you can tell me to shut up if you’re not looking for troubleshooting here, but I’ve just. Been thinking. ’Bout how you could maybe make this shit less frequent.”

Gamzee shook his head against Dirk’s thigh, sighing. “Nah, bro, ain't like it's _usual_ , I'm better than that mostly, just lost track today. I'll be all up in my attention for sure tomorrow, and a while yet. Make sure not to fuck up that bad again.”

Dirk blinked twice. He was pretty sure _he_ wasn’t high yet, but things were definitely getting hard to track. Probably because _Gamzee_ was high and he was over here trying to maneuver him into a serious conversation or some fuckery. Ugh. Beneath his hands, Gamzee shifted, lax muscles starting to tense, the sleepy chime of his mind through the resonance starting to tip over to something unhappy and discordant, and oh hell that probably meant he was picking up _Dirk’s_ mood, responding to it. Five minutes in and Dirk was already dragging the whole party down, way to go, very comforting--

 _Think he means the dough, bro,_ Hal said. _He doesn’t need advice not getting the dough fucked up again._

Dirk’s runaway train of thought flipped like it’d hit a penny on the tracks.

“Oh,” Gamzee said, relief flooding through, “yeah, bro! 'M all good on that. Don't go all gloomy over no fucking thing, just get your cuddle on with me.”

“...Right,” Dirk said, feeling a bit whiplashed.

 _You’re an idiot,_ Hal commented, and Dirk pointedly ignored him as he worked fingers carefully through Gamzee’s hair to draw out the tangles. Gamzee was warm against him; immediately soothed and all but purring as he melted back down into Dirk’s lap. Dirk was an idiot.

 _Told you so,_ Hal said again. 

Dirk let the silence stretch out for a bit, hesitant to do anything to disrupt it again, and just focused on easing his nails along Gamzee’s scalp, fingers chasing away tension in little shivers as he drew nonsense patterns through his hair.

Gamzee hummed happily, then paused. “Hold up a sec. You weren't all to be talking at the dough, then. Yeah?”

“...Not so much, no. It’s not important.”

“Hey, brother, no, I like hearing all as what you got to say,” Gamzee assured him, climbing mostly to a sitting position to peer into his face before immediately plastering himself back against Dirk like some kind of cuddly strangler vine. “Smart motherfucker like you, got all those brains up at you. Lay it on me.”

 _Famous last words_ , Hal commented, because Dirk’s shadow-brother existed for the sole purpose of torturing him specifically. Gamzee just nuzzled distractingly into his neck.

“I’ve just been wondering,” Dirk said, “if you’ve ever considered… telling someone. More someones. About the… aural sensitivity.”

There was a pause as sheepish uncertainty slid through the resonance. “Uh,” Gamzee said. “The what now, bro?”

“Your metaphysical awareness of--the energy signature--” Dirk paused and sighed. “The shadow mind-reading thing.”

Gamzee tensed up, a jarring chord of alarm sweeping through. “No,” he said, backing up like he could put physical space between himself and the idea. Dirk caught him before he could escape off of his lap, and then consciously made his fingers turn loose his hold. Hal was watching them, and even Kurloz’s hazy presence in the room was gathering power, energy collecting in that dark cloud like the warning of a storm. “Bad fucking plan, my brother, folks get all sorts of riled when I let on to that wicked nonsense. Don't wanna be to going through that shit again.”

“Hey, shh, shh.” Dirk felt his own heart beating faster in awkward sympathy, resonance bouncing the tension between them, and focused on making his own breathing slow and steady. Gamzee wasn’t making any move to continue his self-extraction from Dirk, was all but clinging to the points of contact he did have, so Dirk bundled him back in, wrapped arms carefully around him. Gamzee made a spirited effort to merge into him by way of body contact, and Dirk let himself be pressed down flat against the futon, with Gamzee’s legs tangling with his own and face planted in his neck.

“Just an idea,” Dirk murmured, like an apology. He stroked Gamzee’s hair some more, and maybe it was cheating to be able to feel how each touch changed the tenor of the emotion, like tuning an instrument, but Gamzee was easing back down, muscles loosening up, gone all hazy-dreamy in his arms again, and the guilty power of it was heady. Dirk bit his lip and tucked his nose down against dark curls. “Not gonna happen. And nothing you gotta do. But look--you’ve already got me and Karkat. And you told Bro, too. And nothing bad happened.”

Gamzee made a noise that reluctantly admitted the truth of that. “Your Bro don't care, though, he's different. And Karkat, shit, bro, Karkat flipped the fuck out first time as I made all clear to him.” Gamzee nuzzled Dirk's collarbones, squeezing him harder for a minute. “And… you were none too pleased, either, when you got the wicked knowledge all on you. I got lucky as you and my little beloved still let me get to hanging around, after, but I don't wanna be at depending on luck.” He shuddered. “It can get bad, bro. It can get to being real bad.”

“Gamzee…” Dirk’s heart hurt. It was probably not the resonance. It might be this hotbox of a room, a little. His brows pulled together, the air felt short in his lungs.

 _You’re not a burden,_ Hal said, and he was suddenly right there, shadow cast close and dark on the futon, and it must be nice not having a body to fight him, to make everything more difficult. _What you can do isn’t something we have to *tolerate.*_

A shiver of shock and something sweet and hopeful came through the resonance, and Dirk found his voice, finally. “You’re good. You’re--easy to be with. I don’t know how exactly this has gone in the past, but--that was on them. It doesn’t take luck to wanna be around you.”

Pleasure and relief joined the shock, and Gamzee's arms seized hard around Dirk again. “Sweetest motherfucking brother as I ever up and did meet,” Gamzee mumbled. “I most dearly do love you, bro. Jane setting me at the counter so as I ran into you that day's the best thing as happened to me since Karkat.”

Oh. Dirk had to kind of--take those words and put them somewhere less close. Sincere enough to almost burn, and maybe he was feeling the secondhand smoke more than he’d thought, because it seemed like usually he could handle this shit better.

 _You super can’t_ , Hal murmured, and then lighter, to Gamzee, _You can’t go being so nice to him, he’s a dork, he’s gonna implode or some shit._

“Aww,” Gamzee said, laughing into Dirk's chest as he slung an arm up over his face to hide behind. Gamzee just rubbed his face on Dirk’s shirt, fingers distracted following the seams up and down his sides, like the fabric, or possibly Dirk, was the most fascinating thing in existence. He looked up suddenly, and his smile was so sweet Dirk had to pretend to be completely blinded by his own arm. “Can't be having that. Gotta keep my pretty pony in good condition, can't get at busting his legs trying to jump too high a compliment. Fucking tragedy that'd be.”

“Mmf,” Dirk told his arm. Then, “We should do that sometime.”

“Busting legs?”

 _Ponyplay_ , Hal clarified.

Dirk made a muffled noise and slung his other arm over his face as well. “I mean maybe. If you’d be up for it. Or wanted to. That could be fun? I’m just saying, we’ve been dancing around this stableyard for ages, the ironies are sky high, ‘s gotta be a matter of time before someone cowboys up and puts their bridle where their mouth is, like, there’s this air of inevitability to it, like a Saturday morning sitcom, ‘s all Rachel and Ross, except Ross is a pony, and all this will-they-won’t-they bullshit has gotta get embarrassing for the scriptwriters after a while--”

It was somewhere between a relief and just a different kind of mortifying to have Gamzee cut him short with a soothing pat—made it harder to pretend that every drop of his rising unchillness wasn’t completely obvious through the resonance. 

Made it harder to pretend he didn’t halfway like that.

“Hey, now, my brother, we surely can up and try it, and no doubt nor harm to it.” Gamzee lifted his head, still patting Dirk's side (petting at the shirt fabric again), and gave him a cheerful smile that Dirk could see from under his arm. Intrigue rang softly through, a coily little touch. “You want I should saddle you up and ride, or get to taming you good and thorough with a crop, or what all?”

Dirk gave up and pressed both hands into his face, cheeks heating. “Both? Both is good.”

_He wants you own him and break him and then pretty him up and tell him exactly how to be a good, pretty, adorable pony for you while you put him through his paces._

“I changed my mind, how about we never talk about this again,” Dirk said.

Gamzee ignored this. “Huh,” he said, and the little chimes of heat and interest sounding in the resonance just made Dirk’s face flame harder. “Yeah, bro, I can surely get at doing all that. Cuz you're mine, yeah?” He gave Dirk a hooded gaze. “I'm yours and you're mine, and only fair I should make it right clear to you who all has ownership of your… title. Papers? What the motherfuck is it for horses?”

Dirk snorted into his hands. “Aw yeah, talk equestrian bureaucracy to me. Gonna get all my paperwork in order. Get those affidavits nice and filed.”

“Hell yeah, bro,” Gamzee said peaceably, resting his head on Dirk's solar plexus. “Whatever gets to being your pleasure. I know how much you're all at enjoying your sex paperwork,” he added, aiming a smirk up Dirk's body.

“Damn, guilty.” Dirk let his arms fall back down to Gamzee’s shoulders, rolling his head back to smile at the ceiling. The warmth fizzed between them like soda pop, Gamzee was still hazy-dreamy against him, melancholy from earlier mostly lost track of, and this was... nice. 

He probably should bring the conversation back to Gamzee and what upset him (or maybe he really shouldn’t, you don’t get to poke at everything, Dirk), but he kind of didn’t want to. The edgy background thrum of Kurloz was the only lingering off-note, and even that felt… familiar. Shades of that particular resentful, threatening presence that reminded him a bit of those first weeks sharing a living space with Gamzee. But quieter, presence fuzzed and softened by the drugs as much as Gamzee’s mind against him.

There was something Freudian, or possible Pavlovian, about the way Dirk was learning to respond to Kurloz’s more ominous moods. Like the threat of claws under velvet. He shivered and ran his palms over Gamzee’s back, soaking in the warm happy haze that rose to his touch like ripples in a pool.

Nice.

Of course, Hal’s sudden renewed interest in whatever Kurloz was doing on the wall across the room suggested Dirk wouldn’t get to enjoy the peace for very long. From the corner of his eye, he watched his shadow-brother wandering back towards Kurloz’s stormcloud-hazy form, feigning nonchalance even as his attention hummed sharp and intrigued. Typical, really.

Kurloz didn't react visibly to Hal's approach, but the muffled growl of him got a little sharper, snappish and irritable. The tangle of greyed-out, knotted up shadow-vines shifted sluggishly.

Hal tilted his head.

Dirk could have called his brother off--not that Hal would ever listen to him if it wasn’t exactly what he knew he should do anyway, but Dirk could have at least pretended to be the responsible, non-confrontational member of this host-shadow symbiosis. But. Well. He was curious, too.

Hal ran one shadow finger right along the edge where two of the tendrils came together, not overlapping them, but brushing against Kurloz where his form was darkest on the wall.

Dirk sucked in a breath as the touch washed across him in a buzz of static, resonance redoubling briefly. The increased sense of Kurloz that came through it before the tendrils slid away was a low prickle of disgruntled anger, with a faint, fascinating edge of trepidation and intrigue.

Gamzee turned his head to watch the shadowplay, and Dirk caught amusement and an odd sort of smug defiance from him, something like _Serves you right_.

That distant, chilling anger turned sharper.

Hal, being Hal, immediately poked the angry shadow again.

Kurloz rippled, knotted coils edging away at what seemed to be the best pace they could muster, like a dreamer rolling over in his sleep. _You motherfucking *dare*,_ Dirk heard before the shadows separated again, and Kurloz's voice seemed to slur and drag too, irritable and dazed.

Yep, that sure was a high shadow. High and angry.

 _And vulnerable_ , came the tiny tickle of a fascinated thought, and Dirk would have liked to pretend that was entirely Hal, but he knew himself well enough to know better.

 _Nothing in me I didn’t find in you first,_ Hal told him glibly, and this time when he reached for Kurloz he _caught_ , twining fingers delicately into his outermost tendrils.

Kurloz squirmed, shadow-vines flailing sluggish and uncoordinated. One tendril swept out a little faster than the rest, sliding past Hal's border, but Hal just snorted and kept on with what he'd been doing. Kurloz's edges went shivery and indistinct.

 _You dare_ , he said again, and if a shadow could sound breathless, he did; breathless and furious and bewildered. _Motherfucker, don't you get at putting your filthy little feelers to me, I'll rend you one splinter from the next and scatter your self in shreds across the plains, make you fodder for roaming nightmares--nnh. Can't, you can't get to--ah!_

 _Kinda seems like I can,_ Hal purred.

Dirk lifted his head, uneasy. Gamzee was all sleepy amused interest on top of him, and Kurloz didn’t sound distressed, precisely. The resonance was all little trembles of pleasure caught under bewildered, seething indignation, but. 

“Bro, he’s kind of high right now.”

 _His *host* is high_ , Hal said, with what was definitely a mental eyeroll. _He’s just running on a doped up operating system. Playing field’s all tilt-a-whirl._ As if to prove his point, Hal tugged just a bit on the bit of transdimensional entity he was holding.

Kurloz's reaction was a fascinating cross between a snarl and a moan, and for a second the whole shape of him on the wall warped and blurred. When it stabilized again, unease spiked through the resonance and grew a determined edge hard and sharp as glass. Dirk felt the sudden invasion and subtle pressure as that single tendril of Kurloz's plunged into the heart of Hal's substance and twined around the core of him. Kurloz might not have speed or precision in his current state, but he wouldn’t need them at this distance.

Hal hummed idly, a subtle shiver of reaction the only sign that he was aware of the metaphorical knife at his throat. He stroked another finger along the shadow in his hands and Kurloz trembled. The sense of him through the resonance went from fierce, edgy readiness back to bewilderment, with a growing tinge of reluctant fascination.

_What the fuck are you--_

_Scared?_ Hal interrupted brightly, and Kurloz snarled, but oddly settled further.

_It isn’t fear you seek. Not you, queerest aberration that you be. Nor will you receive such for your games, little piecemeal upstart._

Hal hummed and wove his hands deeper, wrapping them in dark vines, and Kurloz hissed, that threatening tendril at Hal’s core tensing and then easing off.

_Yes, you seem very comfortable._

Kurloz snarled a half-hearted threat, the languorous twisting of his hazy coils rippling dangerously. _Don’t *press* me, motherfucker,_ he muttered, _Do not you tease and taunt and give no satisfaction, or yours will be the screaming when I turn my own hand to your play._

To Dirk's interest, he didn't seem to be trying to do anything to Hal like Hal was doing to him. Given the clumsy way his coils were moving, it was entirely possible he lacked the metaphysical fine motor skills at the moment. Typical that even when he couldn't do anything else Kurloz could still manage threats of mayhem and death.

 _Hmm,_ Hal murmured, in a play of thinking it over. _What if I do all three?_

 _Nngh_ , said Kurloz, or something like, a choked gasp that sounded more shivery than indignant. _I'll rend and tear,_ he managed, _ahh, I'll see you split and lost and screaming in my grasp, I'll, I'll--motherfucker!_

Gamzee snickered into Dirk's midsection, nuzzling.

Well that was an intriguing kind of threat. Dirk was having trouble thinking past the mess of feedback through the resonance and the very friendly armful of boyfriend. Especially when Hal did that right there, and Kurloz gave a surprised little moan, and Gamzee hummed and squirmed right up against Dirk.

Dirk blinked a few times, because there was something he was supposed to be doing or... paying attention to…

Right, yes. “Bro, he’s high.”

_We’ve been over this, Dirk, keep up._

“No, I mean, he’s, like. Altered mental state? Can we maybe do some consent check-ins before we board the metaphysical dick train?”

_Gamzee’s fine with it. Right, Gamzee?_

“You motherfucking bet, my brother,” Gamzee hummed, nosing Dirk's ribs through his shirt. “And so's Kurloz if he'd up and dare to get all in his honesty at it. Which he motherfucking won't.”

Kurloz rumbled an irritable but unintelligible mutter.

Dirk dropped his head back. “Oh great, that sounds fine. Choo-choo, all aboard. Only clear tracks ahead, might as well go faster, this bitch’s unsinkable.”

_Mixing your metaphors, bro._

“Not mixed enough, though,” Gamzee put in. “No ponies yet.” 

“There weren’t any ponies on the Titanic. Or on trains.”

Gamzee nodded his face into Dirk’s stomach like this was something profound. “Gotcha. That 'splains it.” He looked up at Dirk, head tilting with a little frown that Dirk definitely did not think was adorable. “What's nibbling at you, my fine motherfucking steed? Not like my brother's like as to be shy and retiring on his pleasure and displeasure.”

 _I'll retire to your bloody and broken bones_ , Kurloz grumbled, sounding distinctly distracted. _Nervy motherfuckers all getting their mischief and concern on, like any could best me before I laid them low in their anguish and fear…_ He trailed off in a breathless groan.

Dirk was pretending really hard that didn’t make something tighten low in his groin. “Why am I the only reasonable person in the room?” he asked the ceiling. “Oh, right. Everyone’s high. And Hal’s an asshole.”

 _That would mean *you’re* an asshole,_ Hal snipped.

“‘Kay,” Dirk said. “I’m leaving.” He went to push off of the futon, and Gamzee abruptly turned into an octopus.

“Noooo,” Gamzee mumbled into his shirt, muddled little discords of startled unease upsetting the harmonics between them. “Don't be mad, bro, 's no harm in it, yeah? Like Kurloz said, he'd fuck Hal up if this was all at being unwanted. And he's not, it's cool, all good, see?”

“Gamzee…” Dirk said uncertainly.

“Mm?” Gamzee said, rubbing his nose against Dirk's ribs. “'S all in fun, my brother. Only fair to let Hal all be to getting some of his own back, get his hands up in Kurloz like he's been up in Hal, you feel me?”

“I don’t think fair really has anything to do with it,” Dirk said, but he couldn’t bring himself to keep pulling away when every hairsbreadth sent anxious chimes discordant through the resonance. “This is such a bad idea.”

 _Excuse you, it’s a great idea,_ Hal said. _Obviously. Because it’s mine._

Kurloz rumbled dangerously, like a volcano considering whether it wanted to erupt, and Hal’s attention turned back, hands soothing and teasing over Kurloz in a way that sent pale ripples through the muted grey of him, made him subside with a kind of intrigued irritation. It… _might_ be Dirk's imagination, wishful thinking or something, but he could swear the irritation felt put-on, and under it was a dark-edged smugness, almost like Kurloz had acted up specifically to get Hal to do something about it. That seemed unlikely? But then, this whole shadow-on-shadow sexy dominance thing they were doing was pretty much unheard of, so…

Gamzee giggled quietly and squeezed Dirk in a hug, then tugged up his tanktop to kiss his stomach.

Dirk bit his lip. “If anyone stops having fun I’m pulling the brakes on this train.”

 _Mm-hm, yes, you’re very responsible._ Hal could apparently spare a moment from fucking with Kurloz to be condescending to Dirk. Priorities. _Now if you’re done pretending this doesn’t push all your buttons…_

Gamzee snickered, right against the bare flesh under his ribs, and Dirk bit his lip harder. 

_I mean, think about it,_ Hal said, and whatever he was doing to Kurloz, just at the corner of Dirk’s vision, made that drowsy predator-buzz in the room swell and then splinter into something more like an unwilling purr. _Gamzee’s all soft and open and wanting. All fuzzy-sweet. And Kurloz,_ Hal hummed, and this time Dirk could just about mentally track the way he slid himself like a sharp edge through the other shadow’s soft parts, a tease of danger, pushing in without tearing. _We could make him like it, too,_ Hal said, like a devil in Dirk’s ear.

Gamzee snickered again, pressed his face against bared skin and had a little giggle fit, which was both ticklish and very distracting. “ _Make_ him like it, motherfuck!” he gasped. “Like he's not all to rolling over and begging at that you keep on it already! How the fuck much more could he be loving it?” He giggled a little more and finally sighed, smiling up Dirk's torso at him. “Never met a shadow so strong as him that he could get at putting trust in, too,” he explained. “Trust not being a talent as my shadow-bro's all practiced in, at all. And also, you know, the stronger the older and smarter and more dangerous, yeah? So. Unique motherfucker, your bro. This is fucking great.” Grinning, he set his chin on crossed hands over Dirk's ribs.

 _‘S that right, Kurlz? Do I make your trust-boner feel funny? We gonna get our team-building kinkcercises going on here?_ The hum of Hal’s words dropped to something low and sugar-coated, and he twisted further into Kurloz in one fluid motion. _You going to roll over and beg for me?_

The performative irritation abruptly flared into something sharper, more genuine, and rather more like rage. _You think_ , Kurloz hissed, _you think pleas will ever come from me, you think any pain or force or threat you dare put forward can sway me from the course of my choosing? Motherfucker, you *mistake* me._

Dulled by the intoxicants, the sharp-edged shivery feel of his anger in the air was much more easily ignorable than usual. And then the shape of him on the wall shifted and rippled again, and the rage subsided somewhat, confusion and subdued interest seeping in again.

 _Trust_ , he mumbled, all puzzled annoyance. _No trust I give, no trust laid in any but my precious own brother, who sees fit to disarm and betray me so. Motherfucking ingratitude…_ He trailed off into muttering Dirk couldn't quite catch.

This, Dirk pondered as Gamzee huffed with uncharacteristic dismissal into his stomach, was why he did sex paperwork. Because otherwise he wound up in a room full of high assholes with fuzzy boundaries and possibly a need for some kind of shadow/host couple’s counseling. Which he absolutely refused to attempt with half a hard-on in his pants.

 _Do you want to talk about it?_ Hal prompted Kurloz.

A ripple of bewildered suspicion came through from Kurloz. _On what should I wish to motherfucking speak at you?_

 _Well, since I have you here,_ Hal murmured, _all opened up for me, but of course not trusting at all--_ Hal patted fingers through Kurloz’s darkness, ignoring the way the single tendril around his own core shivered and tensed, threatening-- _we could talk about what’s got you and your bro there in such a tiff. You don’t like him smoking up?_

Kurloz growled, a low mutter of sullen irritation. _Would *you* be all pleased and settled in your relaxation to be hindered so? Sundered from your full strength and power, dulled and bound up, all blurred and muffled and barely able to *move*, to strike if it were necessary, to guard or protect? He *knows* the dangers and yet he motherfucking *persists* against all sense and warning!_

Gamzee snorted. “Sure, motherfucker,” he muttered against Dirk's skin. “Get at pretending it's all for the sake of my protection, and not as you're a suspicious, paranoid fuck who can't get on your enjoyment of a change in perspective if you had to. He doesn't like as it up and sends him all swimmy and muted, the world all a soft swirl,” he explained to Dirk, raising his head. “Won't even be at trying to chill with it, the coward, even now I'm down at like, twice a motherfucking year.”

Kurloz snarled quiet and grumpy. _Ungrateful little meat scrap_ , he muttered.

_Aw, look, Dirk. They’re fighting just like us. I’m proud. Are you proud?_

Dirk didn’t respond to Hal’s nudging, brows pinching together and something uneasy turning in his gut. He should say something, do something, but-- they really were fighting, and Gamzee and Kurloz _never_ fought. Never had so much as a less-than glowing word to say about each other. His fingers felt tense where the tips rested on Gamzee’s shoulder, his throat locking down harder the more he circled around what he should say.

Hal gave a little sigh, even though he was non-corporeal and absolutely did not need to breathe. _To answer your question,_ he said, turning his attention back to Kurloz, _I do like it, actually. Gets Dirk out of his head, some. And therefore gets *me* out of his head. And there is a lot of us in here. It’s self-indulgent, really._

 _Motherfuck_ , Kurloz mumbled in utter perplexity, and fell silent.

“Hey,” Gamzee said, and nipped Dirk's ribs gently. “Don't be all glum and in your dismay, brother, no need at it.” He smiled up at Dirk. “Here with my finest, sexiest bro, all getting our cuddle on like lovers do, yeah?” A little shiver of delight twined with uncertainty came through the resonance.

It was hard _not_ to respond to that, and Dirk found himself torn between petting in automatic reassurance and frowning right back down at Gamzee.

 _Oh, this will be fun,_ Hal said in confiding tones to Kurloz. _Watch him try to pretend there is absolutely nothing wrong. He’s terrible at it._ His tone turned even lighter. _Not like your boy._

Gamzee glanced over at Hal, looking a little taken aback. Kurloz flexed in a slow, rippling curl and rumbled, irritated, _Little motherfucking fool could make believe as all was well if he was at watching his heart get torn away before his eyes. At least yours has a grain of sense left to him yet, by that measure._

Dirk’s arms tightened around Gamzee.

 _Hm, maybe,_ Hal said. _Not a lot of sense in chasing your brain around in circles for hours over tiny shit that can’t be helped._

“Motherfucker,” Gamzee said, a thread of annoyance weaving itself through the thrum of cuddle-and-pot-related calm and warmth, “leave the fuck off. He's all at doing his motherfucking best, he works his ass off at it, and you give him a load of grief that makes pretense at _helping_ him! Fucking unkind, starfield, he's all deserving better.” He huffed and thumped his head down harder on Dirk's torso like he could dig himself into the cuddle and escape from the acrimony.

There were a few long beats of silence, surprising enough that Dirk actually drew himself out of his own cloud of tangled emotion to glance his brother’s direction, try to parse out which parts of the cloud were his. Wasn’t much easier than picking out which of the dark shapes on the wall were specifically Hal’s.

Couldn’t make sense of the tangle, but he could still feel Hal considering and discarding a half dozen flippant responses. _Could be,_ was all he said, finally. _Not saying anything he’s not already thinking. But, yeah. We’re... not very good at kind. In some directions._

Dirk blinked. That was… almost an apology, coming from Hal. While of course having literally zero of the earmarks of an apology.

Gamzee made a little humphing noise, not bothering to lift his face from Dirk's ribs. “Get better,” he muttered. “Bad enough thinking it, but worse when someone else up and gets to saying it all out loud, even if it's your brother. Don't be cruel at your soul-kin, brother, you neither of you deserve that shit.”

Dirk blinked rapidly, chest feeling tight and strange, like he should curl up around it to hide, like whatever emotion it was he didn’t dare look at it straight on for fear of being scorched. He didn’t want to think about what kind of mess he must be through the resonance. This was ridiculous. This was an overreaction. This was, this was--he was going to blame the secondhand high, and Hal’s own startled, vulnerable tangle of reaction. He drew in a deep breath, made his fingers loosen their sudden clutch. Reached for lightness for his voice. “Dude, you totally just called your own bro a name like, thirty seconds ago.”

“ _Mmph_ ,” Gamzee grumbled, sounding briefly like Kurloz. “...He up and motherfucking started it.”

 _And so I did not,_ Kurloz growled. _You had full on you the knowledge of how little I like this foolishness, and yet you motherfucking ventured still to disarm and hinder me, as you've done before, as I've warned you against and you would not heed!_

Gamzee’s chords were dipping rapidly back towards sullen dissonance, the muted, angry buzz of Kurloz’s own temper rising. 

“Whoa, hey, abort. Flag on the play.”

Dirk held himself against flinching as that renewed surge of Kurloz’s anger swept around towards him--assisted in his efforts at stillness by Gamzee slouched on top of him like a sulky cat--and then Hal plucked idly at the shadow in his hands, and the whole grey shape on the wall went through a slow convulsion. Kurloz made a quiet, shocked little noise, followed by what was definitely supposed to be an angry growl and was decidedly more moan-like.

 _If I’m not allowed to be a snippy asshole just for fun, nobody else is either._ Hal sounded very self-assured for someone currently half-entangled in another shadow that was _definitely_ contemplating tearing at his vulnerable parts. 

“Buzzkill,” Dirk told him, easing back against the futon. “It was my turn next.”

_Don’t be ridiculous, you’re already running a tab._

Kurloz shifted, a half-testing movement, and Hal did something teasing and fluttery with his fingers that made him shiver out loosely again.

 _So I have a suggestion,_ Hal said. _Gamzee has a nice, relaxing, high-as-hell cuddleorgy with Dirk, you practice getting your chill on, and if anything comes through that door with ill intent I *wreck its shit.*_

The silence stretched out, but the feel coming off Kurloz wasn't dismissive or pissed, or anything Dirk had kind of expected. He couldn't actually tell what it was until Kurloz rippled in Hal's grip and it didn't give way, and intrigue swelled through the resonance. Habitual layers of threat and superiority and condescending amusement all grew threadbare, exposing what lay beneath.

Dirk suddenly had a vertigo-inducing vision of what it would feel like to be a powerful predator, the strongest and most deadly creature in a world of dangers. To know that no matter how strong you were, how confident of victory in every fight, you could never let your guard down, never consider yourself or your delicate charge truly safe.

Kurloz didn't react with exhaustion as a human would, exactly, but the sensation creeping through the resonance as he gradually, a fraction at a time, stopped resisting Hal and lay quiescent, was very close to relief.

 _You'd best keep faith_ , he murmured to Hal. _Let me down, little staticky one, little starfield, and I do not forgive._

 _Aww,_ Hal cooed. _Don’t you *trust* me?_ He plucked teasingly at a grey edge of shadow, dark hand moving in a way Dirk’s eyes couldn’t quite follow, but that sent ripples cascading down through the resonance--Kurloz to Gamzee to Dirk. The shadows twisted on the wall and Kurloz made a noise that might have been a snarl or a gasp. Hal hummed satisfaction right back. _Because I think you really do._

Kurloz hissed irritably, but he somehow sounded breathless. _Trust_ , he said, _is all at being a strong fucking word for it. I lay trust in you so far as this stretches,_ and Dirk could feel the slight tug of it as the tendril gone almost slack around the core of Hal tightened with an effort. _More than that you'd best not be to hoping at, for the chances are slim as a long-honed blade._

Dirk closed his eyes and then opened them again as Hal’s smile bloomed inside him like a flower. Gamzee’s eyes were wide and thoughtful on the scene, pupils dilated to make dark eyes darker, lips parted to turn up in a little smile.

 _That’s okay, darling,_ Hal said, tone sticky sweet, all but curling into the threatening touch as he feathered his own power lightly over Kurloz’s. _It takes practice. You’re doing your best._

Kurloz was so taken aback by that he couldn't even manage words, just annoyed sputtering, a huffy grumble that kept turning breathless groan. Gamzee snickered into Dirk's stomach.

Dirk reached down without thinking, urging him up and rising onto an elbow, drawing him into a kiss. Gamzee made a startled noise that turned pleased, and just melted happily against Dirk. He kissed different, high; slow and lazy and chill as hell, just enjoying it. He tasted like smoke.

Dirk let himself follow, half lost in the haze of touching for touching’s sake, half caught in the shiver and thrum of Kurloz’s energy as Hal played at drawing reactions out of him. Gamzee's hand curled around the back of Dirk's neck, shifting to rub a thumb gently behind his ear. Dirk just sank back into the futon and luxuriated. Curling down over him, Gamzee nuzzled the other ear, humming contentment in a hot, ticklish breath.

Somewhere, distant from the futon and close and coiling against Dirk’s mind, Kurloz made a disgruntled noise, a huffy shiver of reaction that somehow sounded like a cat looks when you stop patting it too soon. Hal all but purred satisfaction, gracing Kurloz with another-- _something_ , Dirk wasn’t really paying attention at this point, some thread of energy slipping past Kurloz’s defenses, following Hal’s fingertips, and Dirk couldn’t really think when Gamzee was moving all sleepy-warm-soft against him, when Kurloz was a slowly unfurling thrum of presence in his mind, when Hal threaded under everything in hungry, acquisitive hum of _notice me, let me, want me._

And Kurloz seemed inclined to provide, energy soothing back down to that sleepy beehive buzz, permitting the casual handling even as he never quite lost that edge of wary focus on Hal's intrusion. It was a fullness of attention Hal encouraged, shadow hands slow and careful but thorough in their exploration of the other dark shape on the wall, presumptuously intimate. He ran fingers over each vulnerable spot, tracing the contours of Kurloz's being, teasing for reaction before coaxing him back to ease and unwinding, and a delicate, grudging trust.

Gamzee just sighed, maybe the closest Dirk had felt him to being relaxed the whole way through this evening, and melted down against Dirk’s lips like a puddle of radiant contentment.

Dirk wasn't sure how long he and Gamzee lay comfortably tangled together, snuggling and making out and snuggling some more, although at some point he was lured into an exchange of sick rhymes. This was hilarious, and an excellent idea, as high-Gamzee turned out to be incredibly bad at rap. Dirk was stockpiling those lines for deployment against his brothers at the maximally ironic and appalling moment.

Eventually, Dirk realized the haze was beginning to lift. Through the resonance, Gamzee’s presence rang less slow and fuzzy, a little sharper and more present.

Kurloz, meanwhile--

Dirk felt it like a whiplash as Kurloz abruptly coiled and pounced, entangling Hal as thoroughly as Kurloz had just been caught. Hal barely resisted, amusement hiding eagerness. (Who the hell cares who tops, so long as someone's getting fucked?)

 _(Want me, want me, want me)_ sang that thread curled low through the resonance.

“Someone’s feeling feisty,” Dirk mumbled and buried his face in Gamzee’s hair. “You coming down?”

Gamzee sighed. “Mmph. Yeah.” He lifted his head to throw a narrow look at the wall the shadows were sprawled across. “Course, I _could_ go and smoke up again…”

Kurloz snarled, but there was a smugness under the sound, playing with Hal sufficiently pleasing to distract him from his ire with Gamzee.

Gamzee snorted softly and thumped his head back down on Dirk's arm again as they lay on their sides. “I'm all good for now,” he said, squeezing Dirk with one arm.

“Mm,” Dirk hummed. “Just for the record. You’re okay with intoxicated makeouts and etcetera?”

“Uh.” Gamzee blinked a minute and frowned at him, mild and amused. “Yeah, bro, I surely motherfucking am, being as we have been so doing for like a good while here.”

“Sober consent is a thing.” Dirk got briefly distracted smoothing a strand of hair out Gamzee’s face. “Should ask you again later, too.” Gamzee drew in a breath, frown and amusement intensifying, but was forestalled by Dirk circling his fingertips in an apologetic brush over his skin. Dirk ducked his head a bit, voice lowering. “Wanna do right by you.”

Gamzee nudged his nose against Dirk's forehead and then kissed him, the feel of him in the resonance going soft and warm and pleased. “And so you do, and so I know, my brother bright and beloved.”

 _How come you never say sweet things to me?_ Hal put in, though the sly snark of it was interrupted by a hitch of reaction part way through. Kurloz uncoiled that tendril with utter smugness, then twisted and coiled again. 

_I'm little known to speak untruths_ , Kurloz answered. _So I'll name you starfield, or sneaking staticky one, or little false-tongued morsel as each face arises._

 _Aww,_ Hal said, _I’m gonna call you scary-ass motherfucker_. _Or cuddlebug._

Dirk’s lips curved up. “Please don’t.”

 _Scary-ass I surely motherfucking am,_ Kurloz said with satisfaction, doing something that made Hal shiver and twist and absolutely not do anything to try and escape. _'Cuddlebug’ does not suit_ , he added in a tone of distaste that made Dirk snort out loud.

“Good luck being at to _stopping_ him from up and naming you that,” Gamzee snickered, and Kurloz didn't deign to respond.

“I vote we not start a name-calling war,” Dirk said. “On account of that being stupid.”

_Overruled._

“Completely unsubtle subject change: Gamzee. How do you feel about dinner.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Gamzee said in devout tones. “Oh _hell_ yes, my most fucking brilliant of brothers, that's all to being straight up genius. Food, yeah. Let's.”

“The Chinese food’s probably getting cold on the table if we wanna relocate and actually try to nourish ourselves like functional human beings.”

They made it out to the kitchen without fuss, Gamzee reacting to the promise of food like Dirk had manifested a holy sacrament, unfolding eagerly and towing Dirk along with him. Hal and Kurloz shook free to follow distractedly after, Kurloz still sliding tendrils across Hal's borders. It was not too dissimilar from the way Gamzee’s hands kept seeking Dirk out, like he’d found a favorite toy and wasn’t willing to let it out of his reach. In the end, they wound up slouched on the sofa, some ridiculous horror flick playing on the TV, Dirk’s attempts to enjoy his Hunan spicy beef hampered only slightly by Gamzee’s warm frame half-entangled around him.

“Mm,” Gamzee mumbled through a mouthful of chicken skewer. “Fuckin’ _nom_.”

Kurloz sprawled across the wall behind him, several branches stretching out to where Hal perched along the arm of the couch, and hummed quiet and amused, almost not threatening at all. 

“Hours old Chinese food,” Dirk agreed. “The fuckingest of noms.” He tilted his head back against Gamzee’s shoulder, eyeing him upside-down. “You seem better. Bad day wearing off?”

“Yeah, bro,” Gamzee agreed, smiling at him, and nuzzled his forehead. “Course, with such a fine brother up and getting his snuggle on with me! No way to be at caring about a bad day after that.”

“Hm.” Dirk decided he felt too warm and comfortable to mount an argument to that. “Good then. Glad to be of service.”

 _Yes, absolutely tell us the next time you want to take curly here down a peg or two,_ Hal said cheerfully, poking one of the tendrils around him.

Kurloz growled and flexed, reaching deeper into Hal, twining through him to pulse and ripple purposefully until all Hal's edges went shivery and indistinct. _Show you who's to be humbled here…_

Gamzee glanced back at the shadow play on the wall, lips quirking ruefully. “Won't be for some time, most like. Gotta get back up in our harmony, my brother and me. Can't be all to singing out of tune like this, shit's unlivable.”

Kurloz rumbled irritation, but through his overlap with Hal came an undercurrent of discomfort, restless and twitchy. He said nothing that Dirk caught, but Gamzee sighed anyway.

“I'm sorry I up and pissed you off, bro,” Gamzee said. “I had to be at motherfucking finding my chill, but I'm all sorrow it took stealing yours away to do it.”

Kurloz swept down off the wall in a heartbeat, except for the stretch of him connected to Hal, and slid up onto Gamzee everywhere he and Dirk weren't touching, looping spirals down his arms and legs. The furious energy of him prickled across Dirk’s skin like tiny insect feet. 

Gamzee just sighed and snuggled into both of them, resonance chiming all hopeful.

 _Foolish baby brother_ , Kurloz muttered. _All made up of breakable flesh and bone. Get some motherfucking wisdom up on you already, learn the difference between safety and peril_.

Oh no, they were doing apologies. Feelings. Intimacy. Caught against Gamzee and Kurloz, the painful sweet sincerity pulsing in his head and across his skin like a physical touch, Dirk stared blankly at some horror movie victim getting knifed on the TV and took another bite of beef and noodles.

 _You are crazy paranoid,_ Hal told Kurloz with deep fondness. _It’s cute._

 _You have such impudence as would get you crushed in an instant,_ Kurloz retorted, _were you not also so strange as to draw the eye and intrigue your way out of your own demise._

Gamzee snickered.

That lured Hal in closer on the couch, sidling up and mockingly cooing, and somehow contriving to mentally flutter his eyelashes, and the evening wound up in one big tangle of limbs and shadows and Chinese food.

“Hey,” Dirk said into the comfortable silence that followed once the food was mostly gone. On the TV an evil hand-puppet was wrapping up a sadistic monologue in a way that gave Dirk vague fond memories of childhood. Gamzee hummed a rising note, squeezing his arms around him and rubbing his chin down into Dirk’s hair. “You know I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to do, right?”

“Yeah, my brother,” Gamzee said, squeezing him tighter for a moment. “You been hella clear on that, it's all manner of sweet.”

“So you know I don’t wanna like, push. If you don’t like an idea.”

Gamzee shifted, blinking down at him. “Yeah,” he said, and started to grin. “What, you got a thought on you as you might wanna try? Should I up and get some riding pants on or some shit?”

“No. I mean, yeah, maybe, that’d probably be hot, but.” Dirk hesitated, tracing fingers over the arm folded tight over his heart, half following the curve of shadow tendrils on skin. “Okay, don’t freak out, this is just a suggestion. But I really think you should maybe think about telling somebody. Else. About you. Just to try it.”

Dirk could tell when the pin dropped--Gamzee tensed against him and the easy drifting presence in the resonance started to slowly twist, tighter and tighter like a spring. Gamzee kept relatively still except for that, though. Dirk might have bought that he was chill, if it hadn’t been for the resonance and the body contact and the frankly everything.

“Bro, I just--I don't think it's any kind of a good idea,” Gamzee muttered.

“I know,” Dirk said, and tried to keep his own posture relaxed, tried to coax that tense energy down to match his own. “You don’t have to. I know you’ve probably had a lot of reasons not to. But I just--I’ve been thinking a lot about this and I think it could be different. I think it could work. I think…” He paused, eyes flickering uncertainly to Gamzee’s.

“Yeah?” Gamzee prompted, his frown just as uncertain.

“You were a kid when you called Kurloz, right?” Dirk asked, but he didn’t need to wait for an answer. “And you said that’s when it really started; you could sense shadows before, but after you could hear them talk and everything.”

Gamzee nodded cautiously.

“So you were this little kid with this prematurely bonded shadow which people were gonna be concerned about, and it’s _Kurloz_ , so that probably didn’t ease any anxieties, and you had this other shadow-reading thing on top and shit didn’t go well. Karkat was the first person you told?”

Gamzee snorted an unhappy pretense of a laugh. “Not even, bro, he was just the first one as didn't kick me to the curb like fucking poison after. Naw, the very first motherfucking one I got my admission on at was my dad, before they all got on taking me away from him.”

Dirk wasn't planning to ask for details about his dad's reaction to start with, but even more so after the judder of old pain and regret came through the resonance, remembered undertones of fear and confusion. He turned enough to press in under Gamzee’s chin, rubbing his cheek against the soft bare skin above his collarbones, ignoring the velvet shift and slide of Kurloz curling around the same skin. It meant he couldn’t see Gamzee’s face properly anymore, but he could feel Gamzee’s arms when they tightened around him again, hear his heart thudding hard under Dirk’s ear. 

“So really not well then.”

“Hah, yeah, my brother,” Gamzee sighed, “he was… real mad. Scared. Mad at being scared. It was some bad shit went down, and Kurloz didn't take kindly to it, and… yeah. No.”

Hal brushed the side of his head against Gamzee’s shoulder, nuzzled a shadow cheek very carefully in to rest on his skin. He didn’t say anything. Dirk didn’t either. He didn’t trust himself to react to any of that, not in any way that was constructive. Destructive had always been more his speed. 

He focused on his breathing, on trying to radiate calm and comfort, project them through the resonance like some kind of metaphysical...trauma blanket or some shit. And, because he’d also always been the kind of cold bastard that could never stop poking at a logic puzzle, some part of him focused on selecting his next words, picking through them like steps through a minefield. “But you did tell Karkat. Eventually.”

“Yeah, and he flipped the fuck out too.”

“Have you ever told anyone when you were an adult and they were an adult and you were both comfortably settled into your shadow bonds?”

Gamzee frowned to himself. “That's a whole load of little bitty boxes to check at once, bro. I guess, like… not so far as memory takes me? I mean I only just hit at being an adult and all, so. Not long to try at all those at once when I already had real clear it was a bad motherfucking plan long since.”

“Okay, well, hear me out, but maybe the adult thing makes a difference?” Dirk shrugged uncomfortably. “I mean, I’m just kind of extrapolating wildly here and this is just my own experience talking and I know that’s not really directly comparable, but.”

 _Please stop talking,_ Hal put in. _You’ve officially reached babbling levels of insecurity._

Dirk stopped talking, somewhere between mortified and grateful.

Gamzee leaned into him, comfort and reassurance, and kept frowning. “How all's it gonna differ that much, though? My dad was an adult, sure enough, and he wouldn't have been any more up in his gladness about it if I'd been too. Worse, I figure, pretty sure.”

Dirk wondered if there was a polite way to phrase ‘okay, but your dad sounds like an abusive asshole.’ Probably not. “Okay, but like. Let’s maybe imagine a less fraught hypothetical person. Karkat freaked out like a year ago, but he got over it. And that would’ve been back at the start of term when all the freshmen have barely had their shadow-sibs a month or two, right? They don’t know up from down for a while there, everyone’s just acting out how they think it’s supposed to go. What if… I don’t know. What if you’d told him just recently?”

“...Dunno,” Gamzee said after a minute. “Might be he'd be even more up in his rage and rant at it, cuz like, we knew each other this long and I didn't get at saying it yet. Even longer as I'd have been listening without letting on, you know?”

The feel of him through the resonance was more hopeful than his words, though, thoughtful and intrigued.

“I mean, fair. There’s gonna be history. But that goes both ways. If someone’s had more time to hold against you they’ve also had more time to just.” Dirk trailed off, feeling weirdly foolish, his voice going quiet. “...Get to like you.” He wasn’t going to look at Gamzee or analyze that tentative, blooming note rising in the resonance. Regrouping, Dirk added, “And if they haven’t known you long then there’s nothing to get defensive about, and it’s no big deal if they do decide to bail.”

“I don't wanna be at chasing folk off,” Gamzee protested, and paused. “You think for truth as there'd be more like Karkat?” he asked, low-voiced. “Might like me well enough as they'll up and tolerate Kurloz and our weird shit? In all honesty, brother, don't go padding your words with me now.”

“I think, I think…” The weight of attention on him made Dirk feel strangely pinned. He listened to the beat of a heart behind a ribcage, traced paths he could almost feel along Gamzee’s arm, between dark lines of Kurloz. “I think,” he said, “that when I called Hal I was 16 and still finishing up high school and I was a huge fucking ass to everyone around me. And none of them had shadows and I was a pushy know-it-all who thought I was hot shit and Hal gave people migraines and my boyfriend spent an entire summer avoiding me because we didn’t know what a boundary was and no one else could draw their own.” Hal was quiet. Kurloz was still, maybe uninterested, maybe bored. Dirk focused on the patch of skin he was tracking with his fingers. Gamzee was… listening, leaning into him a little harder in silent comfort.

“And then I was still this weird upstart in college, younger than everyone else, stepping on everyone’s toes, and I hardly saw my old friends, and yet things got… better. Eventually. People have their own weird shit going on, people have their own weird shadows, people have their own weird talents. It levels out.”

“Huh,” Gamzee said, and tipped his head against Dirk's hair as he chewed it over.

 _Folks tolerate me,_ Hal said. _We’ve got friends. Elite, high tier friends who can deal with all the first class excellence and highly refined bullshit we bring to the table. In terms of weird friend shit to deal with I don’t think ‘too empathetic’ is actually a failing point._

Gamzee grimaced dubiously at that, but there was still that rising note of hope coming through, a little chime of longing that felt more like anticipation than rue. He took a deep breath, bumped his head against Dirk's shoulder again before looking at him. “Doubts I still have up on me, but I'm full-on ears, here. What's your thought, bro?”

_Ooh, man, straight into the danger zone. Watch out, bro, he’s got a 27 step plan, you’ll be in over your head before you can say ‘obsessive micromanager.’_

Dirk huffed, but sat up a bit, sliding part way out of Gamzee’s arms to be able to face him more directly. “You don’t have to,” he started, and then flushed when Hal made a derisive noise and Gamzee just kind of blinked puzzlement at him. “I’m just _saying_ ,” he huffed again, half hunching his shoulders. “Anyway. Was sort of figuring it might be easier to start on neutral ground. Something with less heavy stakes, like Bro, only maybe without the like. Weird loaded indirect family ties. And the Bro-ness.” He paused. Gamzee was still listening, evidently without irritation. “But maybe one of my friends? You kinda know them, but it’s not as big an issue? Not Jane, I think she’d be fine, but that’s maybe a lot of pressure to start with, and Dave’s got the family thing plus he’s more your friend group anyway, and Jake’s kind of jumpy with shadows. But. Roxy?”

“Aw, but I _like_ the giggle-sister!” Gamzee protested. He was starting to tense up again. “Ain't been around her much, but she's all up on her fun and chill, she's cool. Don't wanna harsh shit with her.”

“She likes you too, bro. And you’ve met her, she’s practically the most chill, non-judgemental person I’ve met, girl is too fucking good for this world. She’s not gonna give you shit.”

Gamzee nibbled on his lip, frowning at Dirk's knees. He looked up, dark, anxious eyes on Dirk's, and said softly, “You really think she'd keep her chill on her at it?”

“I--yeah. I really do.”

Gamzee took a sharp, uneasy breath, eyes still so intent, and Dirk couldn’t look away, couldn’t breathe. Had to fight down the panicky urge to start elaborating or hedging or unpacking his own uncertainties, but. This would be okay. He could believe this would be okay. He could make it be okay. (No probably not, but the urge was there.)

Gamzee closed his eyes, opened them again and nodded. “Okay, bro, we'll get to doing as you think we up and ought,” Gamzee said, and Dirk was uncomfortably aware that Gamzee must be able to feel Dirk’s crazy thrill and matching needle spike of panic at those words.

“I'll, like… broach the topic at the sister sometime, I guess,” Gamzee said, a little crease between his brows like he was trying to imagine that and couldn't quite.

And if he couldn't really picture it happening, and he wasn't enthusiastic about the prospect to start with… Dirk was now somewhat familiar with Gamzee's avoidant tendencies when he was worried about something. It seemed pretty likely that ‘sometime’ just wouldn't show up anytime soon.

“Actually, I was thinking I might bring it up with her first if you were okay with it. Give her a chance to get used to the idea before she’s actually in the room with you.” And give Dirk a chance to suss out her reaction and do damage control if necessary. This _was_ going to be okay.

“Oh,” Gamzee said, swell of relief like a cool touch through the resonance, “ _yeah_ , bro, that'd be--fuck, so much better. You'll, like, know how to say it at her so's she'll be cool with it. And--you'll tell her, right, that I can't be at turning it off or nothing, it ain't a thing as I can control, don't do it to purpose, right?”

“Yeah,” Dirk said. “‘Course. Like I said, I’m pretty sure she’ll be cool with it.”

 _Roxy’ll be psyched_ , Hal encouraged, shifting to perch on the back of the couch like a weirdo, silhouette leaned on the wall near Kurloz with faux carelessness. _1000% intrusive questions and enthusiasm. If you don’t watch out she’s gonna science you to death._

Unease spiked sharply and Gamzee's wide eyes went from Dirk to Hal before Kurloz's coils along Gamzee's limbs shifted and broadened in comfort.

 _Friendly science,_ Hal corrected quickly. _The nicest science. Dirk type of science._

“Right,” Gamzee said, and if his smile was still a little unsteady and that uneasy note lingered, at least it was only a note now instead of the crashing alarm chord of a moment ago. “Okay. Cool.” He paused, blinked. “All our science shit ended up in makeouts, though,” he pointed out.

“Maybe not as friendly as that,” Dirk said dryly.

 _Wow, spoilsport_. Dirk shot his brother a look. _What? It’d be hot._

Gamzee snickered. “Yeah, but only if, like, the sister's into that, and, uh, we've all been to talking about it, I guess.” He gave Dirk a slightly uncertain look like he was checking he got that right.

“Yes, threesomes do tend to require everybody’s active involvement. It would be hard not to inform Roxy.”

“Ooh, threesome, hell yeah!” Gamzee said, and kissed Dirk, possibly from sheer relief at having gotten safely to the other side of the ‘you should tell people’ conversation. Dirk was more than a little relieved himself, and certainly more than a little willing to let the evening detour onto firmer grounds.

In a manner of speaking.

“So,” Gamzee said in his ear after some aggressive smooching. “Now that’s sorted out.” He nuzzled Dirk’s neck, smirk brushing against skin. “What’s this I hear tell about my _oral sensitivity?_ Real worrisome kind of deal, bro; you got some notion on you about how a brother could be helping me out with that?”

Dirk huffed, shoving at him. “That wasn’t the kind of aural I was talking about and you know it.”

“Aww.” Gamzee pulled back to pout, all big brown eyes blinking past a fringe of curls, utterly treacherous. “It sounds just the same, though! How's a brother meant to know when you're all getting your silly thoughts on about my ears instead of entertaining clever ideas as to what I could be at doing with my mouth right now?”

“Oh, well if you’re looking for suggestions for _right now_ …” Dirk arched an eyebrow.

“Bro, I'm _always_ motherfucking open to suggestions,” Gamzee said.

That crazy ping of interest shot along Dirk’s spine again, little thrill paired with the ever present, niggling voice that told him one day he was going to push too far.

Maybe. 

But… maybe not.

Dirk leaned in, smiling against Gamzee’s lips. He was home and full of Chinese food and happy. “Well. I’ve got some things I’ve been thinking about...”


End file.
